My Bones Have Found A Place
by TheThirdStar
Summary: Frerin was going to die. He felt the fires well up around him, he felt the pain begin to spread across his skin. But as he looked down, as he saw the face of the only dwarf that had ever loved him smile back despite the cacophony of blazing fury engulfing the world, he knew that it was fine. Companion piece to A Very Respectable Hobbit.


**A/N** I kinda wrote about Frerin's back story in the latest chapter of my other fic, which is why this is canonically different than his actual death, but I just couldn't get it out of my head so I had to expand a bit more. Hope you enjoy!

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Smoke rose from the Dale. Not the smoke of happy bonfires or festivals, no, this smoke was different. It was thick and black, the kind that followed havoc and destruction like sinister, choking shadow.

Frerin felt a sick sort of dread slide down his throat and settle in his stomach. He had been off in the woods that lay just beyond the town, trying to scout out a safer path the trading caravans could take out of Erebor to the lands of the south and the west.

The dwarf quickly shoved his map back into the small satchel that was slung from his belt and started to run back. He was far enough away that he could hear little else than his own footsteps; the songs of birds disturbingly absent as he set off.

Frerin ran quickly across familiar forest floor, knowing exactly when to jump and when to duck. He has spent a lot of time here in his youth, playing with Thorin under Dwalin's watchful eye. Though his rather stern older brother wanted to do little else than either practice hitting Frerin with his wooden sword or dispensing pretend justice as a king would on his little brother's misdeeds, they were still fond memories.

He had the best big brother in the world, of course. No matter how much Thorin liked to pretend he was above "spending far too much time in those blasted woods," Frerin could always convince his brother to go exploring with him if he kept at it long enough.

There was little Thorin _wouldn't_ do if Frerin put on his best pout, which, he wouldn't lie, pleased him _immensely_. His older brother might have inherited their grandfather's mighty glare, but there was not a dwarf in all of Erebor that could resist him once Frerin set his mind to it.

Dís was slightly less susceptible, but then again, she always had the very stubborn will of a mountain in her blood. Frerin knew quite well by now to steer clear of his sister when she got her twin swords in hand or when her eyes started to narrow. Thorin wasn't… well let's just say he was just as stubborn as his sister, but she had the distinct advantage of being completely willing to use braid-pulling as a method of persuasion.

Unlike his siblings, Frerin knew that stubbornness and resolute determination to resist change could make you strong, but it could also make you stagnant. Frerin thought he was much easier going than his siblings. Sure, Dís was as quick to laugh as any dwarf he'd met, but one wrong word, one slight against her husband, and you'd best had start running lest you be short a limb or four.

Frerin knew that adaptability, change, and a healthy sense of humor were essential in dealing with the other folks of this world. His father liked to think that as long as you stayed firm, as immobile as the mountain itself, others would eventually be forced to adapt to you.

While he probably wouldn't _say_ it to any of their faces, Frerin knew they were wrong. He had seen much of the lands beyond Erebor. Even though his siblings couldn't understand why he was always running off into the woods, far from the safety of the mountain's walls, Frerin felt this _need_ within him.

He needed to see, to learn, to _change_. How could he just sit on some high throne looking down at the people walking by when he could be _among_ them; when he could talk to them and learn their stories. Of course he had to learn to rule, being next in line for the throne and all, but when he _flourished_ was when he was moving and adapting.

There was something _amazing_ in finding new places and meeting new dwarves and people. To think that they had so many experiences, so many loves and hurts, desires and faults, and that they just happened to come across him at that unique point in time. That the culmination of events in their lives and his had, despite their different paths, led up to a point, a single point, in which they shared and interacted was fascinating to Frerin.

Nothing puzzled or made him more curious than learning the ways of the world. There was so much to _do_, so much that he could see and touch and _impact_. His hands, _his_ hands could reach out and change lives. That is why he left the halls of Erebor, for all that lay within the mountain, there was infinitely more _out _of it.

Frerin pumped his legs as fast as he could, for the moment thoroughly cursing his need to get outside the mountain and find some adventure, for if something was wrong, if something was happing to his family, well he couldn't very well live with himself if he hadn't been there to help.

Breaking through the brush on the edge of the forest that faced Dale, the dwarf felt his mouth open in horror at the smell and sight assaulting every sense on his body. Holding a hand up to his mouth, Frerin walked towards the town in a slight daze. There was smoke and fire and _death_.

The first thing he saw was the destruction. The walls and roofs were torn down. The familiar high watch tower that could be seen from Erebor had been ripped in two. The smell hit him next. It was… putrid. There was the stench of burning, but not just the town, it was… flesh.

Frerin gathered his wits and quickly drew the hammer his father had gifted him, readying it in his hands in case he was attacked. Though there were screams and wails, the dwarf heard none of the sounds of battle. Making his way through the hazy streets, Frerin could almost not bring himself to look on either side of him.

He _knew_ these people. He knew the baker whose shop lay in ruin, fire eating away at the inside. He knew the old woman who made beautiful jewelry who usually set up her stand only a few yards from where he was walking.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Frerin couldn't help but utter a small prayer that Mahal would watch over these people, that they would be kept alive and safe despite the hungry fires that licked their way from building to building.

Frerin couldn't see more than a few feet in front of him, the smoke was so thick. The dwarf could feel sweat beginning to pool on his neck, heat coming off of the destroyed town in waves as he tired to walk forward.

Suddenly there was a great cry above him. It was nothing the dwarf had ever hear before, like the shriek contained all the malice and huger for blood in the world. There was a moment of deafening silence before the dwarf felt a great wind almost push him too his knees. Frerin looked up into the momentarily clear sky and what he saw almost made him shake with terror.

It was a drake. A _fire_ drake, it's scales as angry red as the hot destruction that shot from it's fanged mouth. And it was heading past the Dale to Erebor. Right to where his family and friends were. Frerin felt his eyes widen in horror, they were going to be attacked. Attacked by a _dragon_ and he was nowhere near close enough to help his siblings.

The dwarf felt his legs begin to move, begin to start sprinting faster than they ever had in his life. He could no longer hear the wails and cries of Dale, nor could he see anything but the path in front of him; the path that led back to Erebor.

Frerin ran hard, his lungs gulping in smoke filled air, burning the inside of his lungs but he didn't care. He _couldn't_ care. Right now everyone he loved was in danger and he _had_ to reach them.

There was another earsplitting roar as Frerin saw the dragon begin its assault on his kingdom. It ripped and tore at the stone like it was little more than a weak tree. It's breath heating the rock until it was no longer its ancient green, but red hot and ready to be rent to pieces. The dwarf ran through the gates of Dale, what was left of them at least, and started to sprint up the long road that twisted and turned until it reached the great doors of his city.

Even as far away as he was, Frerin could hear the screams start to build as the dragon slashed its way into Erebor. Cold panic clenched his heart as the beast finally broke through with a great snarl. Willing his legs to move faster and faster, the dwarf sprinted up the path.

He had to get there! He had to save them; he had to make sure they were _alive_. If they were killed because he had been on some completely irrelevant and _stupid_ scouting mission, he would… Frerin couldn't bring himself to imagine anything further.

He _would_ make it because he had to. He would pull his siblings out of whatever mess they got into like always and everything would be _fine_. It had to be _fine_.

As he was just about half way up the path, Frerin started to see dwarves spilling out from the ruined gates of Erebor. Part of him was relieved that there was at least some _life_ coming out of the mountain, but it was quickly stamped out once he made out how they were walking.

Except they weren't walking, they were limping. They were crawling. Covered in soot and blood, burned and broken as they tried to get to safety. Mother's carried babies, wailing as they struggled to take one more step. There were no warriors amongst the dwarves fleeing from the city, which meant either they were making their own attack or they were… they were…

Frerin shook his head as he tried to push through the mass of dwarves struggling to get away from the burning wreckage. Thorin would be with any of them still trying to fight the dragon, and knowing his brother as well as he did, he would be right at the front of the group, ready and willing to take the brunt of the dragon's fury for his people.

As the minutes passed, more and more dwarves came flooding out onto the path. There was blood and brunt flesh everywhere he looked, though he tried as best he could to keep moving. He would help them later; right now he _needed_ to find his family.

Frerin pushed his way up the path until he reached the gates. The dwarf couldn't see inside as massive clouds of smoke billowed out from inside. Running into the great hallway, Frerin felt his legs stop moving.

His home was… his home was _destroyed_. Rubble littered the hall and great chunks of the pillars that had stood for thousands of years were ripped away. Taking a stumbling step forward, Frerin felt his boot hit something solid. Looking down, the dwarf felt bile rise in his throat. At his feet there lay a mangled and burnt dwarf, a solider of his grandfather's royal guard. The warrior's chest had a gaping wound where a _massive_ claw would have gone through it and the lower half of his body was a smoking, burnt crisp.

As he looked at the dwarf and fought the urge to vomit, Frerin could only hope the brave soul died quickly. No one deserved _this_…

"Frerin!" Came a shout from somewhere behind him, "_Frerin!" _The dwarf turned around only to be enveloped in a fierce hug. "Oh thank Mahal you're alright!" Dís pulled away so she could examine her brother for any wounds, "but what are you _doing_ here? You should have stayed away!"

Frerin simply looked at her for a moment, before letting out a strangled laugh and pulling her into a hug of his own. "Stayed away? How could I stay away when I knew you were in danger!" He gripped his sister tightly for another moment, relief that she was alive flooding his veins, "I saw the smoke in Dale so I came as fast as I could… I thought you'd all be _dead_…"

Frerin pulled away with a strained smile, looking over her sister's shoulder, "where's Throin? He's with you, right?" Dís' face fell as she looked away, unable to meet Frerin's eyes, "He… I told him Thror was still in the treasure room so he…" The younger dwarf's words stopped, as if she were unable to force her mouth to form any more, "he went after him. I shouldn't have said anything! I should have – oh _blast it_, if Thror wants to die with his gold then so be it! Thorin is probably going to – going to get _eaten_ because of that old, greedy fool!"

"Dís" Frerin gave his sister a little shake, bending down so their eyes were level, "_Dís_, he'll be fine, I'm going after him." His sister looked up at him through angry tears, "You're _what_?" Dís' fists clenched at her sides, "I'm sorry, I think I just _misheard_ you because what I _thought_ you said was that you were going," she pointed angry finger at the destruction behind him, "in _there_!"

Dís grabbed her brother's coat in her clenched hands and started to shake him, "You are _not_ under any circumstance going in there to _die_! I already let Thorin go, I'm not letting you go too!" Frerin gently gripped his sister's fists and slowly started to dislodge them, "Thorin needs my help, Dís. Especially if he's there _alone_. I can't let him face the dragon by himself."

"I just – you are – ugh!" Dís spluttered as she let go of her brother's jacket only to punch him swiftly in the shoulder, "why does _no one _listen to me? Fine. If you're going in, I'm going in too!" Frerin looked at his sibling with a small smile. He didn't know a dwarf with a stronger will or a fiercer spirit than his sister.

"You know you can't do that." She narrowed her eyes in indignation, "and just _why_ is that exactly?" Frerin placed his hands on either side of Dís' lovely face and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, "because you have a son. And a husband. What would little Fili do without you, hm?"

Dís looked down, refusing to look at her brother, "I… that is _exactly_ what Throin said." Frerin stepped back with a small chuckle, "That's because it's _true_ and he's right, sister." The younger dwarf looked back up at her brother, "I _know_ but I can't… I can't just sit here and do _nothing_ while both of my idiot brothers go chasing after a dragon!"

Frerin placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it in comfort, "You need to go find your son and your chosen. You need to go find father and help him lead our people, Mahal knows we'll need your spirit in the times ahead, sister. Go and be _safe_."

Dís reached up and gripped her brother's hand tightly, "If either of you die in there so help me, I will find a way to drag you back from the dead just so I can kill you again _myself_." Frerin laughed at his sister's fierce determination, knowing in his heart that if anyone _could_ follow through on that outlandish promise, it was her. "I told you, we'll be _fine_. Now _go_."

Frerin gave her one last smile before he turned around. He was about to start off again when he felt his sister's arms wrap around him from behind, her face pressed into his back. "Be safe, brother. I... I'll give Fili a big hug from his favorite uncle as long as you promise to come _back_." The older dwarf gave his sister's hands another comforting squeeze, "I _promise_."

Feeling his sister's hands reluctantly fall away he almost didn't catch the muttered, "love you, brother," from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Frerin caught Dís' eye and winked, "Love you too, sis. Now get a move on, we'll be out before you know it!"

And with that he set off down the hallway to the passage that led to the treasure room. There were bodies and rubble littered so thick around him, he could barely take a step without hitting one of dwarves lying dead on the floor or one of those still trying to escape.

He had only been running for about a few minutes when he heard his named being called out again over the anguished cries of his people, "Frerin!" Though this time the voice didn't belong to one of his blood, but it was just as familiar, just as _cherished _to him.

Frerin spun around trying to see where the voice was coming from, though the confusion and smoke made it almost impossible to make out more than shapes. The dwarf was about to turn again when he felt another pair of arms reach around him, strong and familiar. "Frerin, you're alive, oh thank Aulë, thank _anyone_, I thought – I thought I'd never see you again!"

Frerin turned in the firm hug that held him so he could bring his own arms around his love, his chosen, his Brehen. "Always so dramatic," Frerin lifted a hand and tugged one of the brown braids on Brehen's head, "like I'd die without annoying you one last time!"

Brehen's face scrunched for a moment but he couldn't seem to hold the irritated expression as he let out a relieved laugh, "you are horrible, you know that? I don't even know why I care." Frerin slipped his fingers behind the other dwarf's neck and pulled him forward into a fierce kiss. Brehen was _alive_, he tasted the same, felt the same and in that moment, that was all that mattered.

Frerin gripped as tightly as he could without hurting Brehen, as if he could keep his love safe as long as Brehen was still in his arms. "Because," Frerin pulled away slightly so he could look at the other dwarf with a wry smile, "you love me." Brehen gripped the knot of braids that rested on the back of Frerin's head before he pulled the prince into another kiss, "Mahal help me I _do_."

Despite the havoc raining down around them, despite the screams and the blood and the _smell_, Frerin felt, if just for that second, everything was actually going to be fine. That if his love was unhurt, surely Thorin would be unhurt as well. Brehen pulled away, breath slightly laboured, "What are you doing going _towards_ the dragon?"

"I have to find Thorin," Frerin pulled the other dwarf towards the wall, "he went after Thror in the treasure room and hasn't come back yet." Brehen nodded and crossed his arms in set determination, "Alright, I'm coming with you."

"_What?_" Frerin began, his eyes widening, "no, you most certainly are _not_." The other dwarf simply set his shoulders and glared, "I know how important Thorin is to you, so I know I can't talk you out of it. Which _means_ I'll just have to come with you."

Frerin stepped forward so he was right in Brehen's space, "No, Bree, you _can't_. You might get hurt or – or worse, you could _die_ and then what would I do?" The brown-haired dwarf pushed forward until there was barely even an inch of space between them, "And yet you would ask the same of _me_? Like _I _would fare any better if you died?"

Bending down so they were sharing the same breath Frerin closed his eyes, "I cannot lose you. I _won't_ lose you. You're strong, the strongest dwarf I know, even if something happened to me, you could move on, you could still live and… and love again."

Brehen stood stalk still for a moment before he wound back his fist and punched the other dwarf square in the jaw, "how _dare_ you? It's like we've never even met sometimes, I swear, you Durin's are the most foolhardy line of royals we've ever had."

Frerin stumbled back rubbing his jaw, "what was _that_ for?" Brehen narrowed his eyes in disbelief, "_That_ was for having the gall to tell me what I can and cannot do. What I can and cannot _live_ with. If you are going in there, then that is exactly where I am going. I will _not_ let you face this alone, not when I finally have you."

Frerin stepped forward and tentatively put a hand one Brehen's shoulder, "I… I was going to tell Thrain today. And Thror. I was going to tell everyone that we are to be bonded, though I suppose now… well the timing's gone a bit off." Brehen chuckled as he stepped in close again, "just as well, I think. I'm not sure your family could take another child bonding with a commoner on top of this mess. I'm sure Thror's head would explode."

Frerin placed a gentle kiss on his love's lips, "we'll tell them soon and you'll be able to live like a prince." Brehen nipped at other dwarf's mouth, "I should probably tell you now, I'm just using you for your gold." The other dwarf laughed as he pulled away, "please, with a face like this? You could at least admit my abundant good looks are a factor."

Before Brehen could answer, there was a thunderous crash that came from somewhere deep in city. 'Oh _no_' Frerin thought as he whipped around in a panic, they had lingered here far too long.

Glancing quickly over at the other dwarf, Frerin reached out a hand and gripped one of Brehen's in his own, "we need to go _now_." Brehen nodded quickly and they set off at a sprint. Though they stumbled on bodies and stones, their pace was swift.

They ran through the great hall into another hallway, and another after that. They ran down steps and through doors, over hard stone and beside the ruin of the city. Frerin and Brehen sprinted, legs pumping and hearts beating in rapid time, hoping that they weren't too late to save Thorin.

The closer they got to the treasure room, the louder the crashes became, shaking what seemed to be the very foundation of the mountain. They could hear the roars and pounding of the dragon as it tore apart yet another piece of their kingdom. There were several paths that led to where the golden hoard lay resting under Thror's watchful eye and Frerin hoped, _prayed_ that the one they chose, Thorin would choose as well if he were able to escape.

The dwarves ran for what felt like hours until they reached one of the gilded sets of doors that led to their goal. Frerin ripped open the doors, with Brehen just behind him, and threw himself into the room. He didn't know what he expected, but as he plunged into the room, it was not the flurry of flying gold and treasure that was whipping about the chamber.

Putting up his arms to guard his face, Frerin turned to shield himself and Brehen from the brunt of the metal pieces being thrown around the room. The dragon let out roar after roar, its shriek splitting his ears and burrowing deep in his skull. As he looked above Brehen's head, Frerin caught sight of a familiar blue coat whipping out of one of the doors on the adjacent wall. It was Thorin! It _had _to be!

Frerin was about to shout to Brehen that they could leave, that they could _escape_ because Thorin was alive, but before he could, the dragon's tail whipped up and hit the ceiling above them. Frerin grabbed the other dwarf and flung them both deeper into the room as stone after stone fell from where they had just been standing, blocking the door they had come through.

Pulling them up, Frerin quickly checked the other dwarf for injuries. "You – you alright, Bree?" he panted, not noticing that the gold had stopped flying around and the roaring had ceased. "Y-yes, I'm –"

But Brehen didn't finish his sentence. Instead his eyes widened as they met something great and _terrible_ behind Frerin. The dwarf slowly turned around to see that the dragon had stopped its wild thrashing and was now staring _directly_ at them, smoke beginning to furl from its razor sharp jaws.

There was no time, nothing that could be done. Frerin could see the beast's eyes promised death and that was the only promise the drake had ever kept in its long, terrible life. Frerin spun around and pulled Brehen into his arms, throwing them both down to the floor, but making sure the other dwarf was covered by his body. Maybe, _maybe_ he could – could keep Brehen alive if his body was hit first.

Frerin looked down into Brehen's eyes as he heard the dragon begin to roar, not seeing fear or terror, but a calm smile on his face. Brehen leaned closer until their foreheads were touching, their lips centimeters apart.

Frerin saw the heat before he felt anything. The air around them started to shimmer in a horribly beautiful sort of way. He didn't want to die. He didn't want Brehen to die, he didn't want – didn't want _any_ of this.

They say time slows down when you're about to pass. That your life flashes before your eyes in some sort of last-minute reconciliation of all the events that happened to do you, to… give some sort of meaning to it, Frerin supposed.

And it's true, in a way. But, Frerin thought, you can't possibly hope to sum up a whole lifetime of experiences in a few short seconds before the pain takes you. So he chose to remember the good things, the things that mattered most to him.

The dragon's flame reached his feet first, burning the flesh from his bone in a flash of searing hot, _unbearable_ pain.

"_Frerin! Frerin get back here right now or I'll – I'll tell father what you've done!" Frerin stuck out his tongue at his brother and scampered out of the room in a flurry of black braids. Given his sort legs and rather distinct disadvantage in height, it wasn't long before he heard the thumping footfalls of Thorin chasing after him. _

"_I said get_ back _here! You – you little ingrate! Those are _my_ boots, you can't even fit them yet!" Frerin spun around on his tiny feet and made a rather unpleasant face at Thorin, "It's not _fair!_ You always get all the nice stuff from grandfather!" _

_Frerin ran around another corner trying to lose his tail, "why don't _I _get nice boots?" The young dwarf ran through a set of doors into what looked like a storage room. Hearing Thorin's footsteps again, he knew he had to hide or else face his brother's nasty scowl!_

_Jumping behind a box and a set of barrels, Frerin huddled down, hidden in the corner of the room, gripping the boots tightly to his chest and hoping that Thorin wouldn't be able to find him, _

_The door to the room slammed opened and he could hear the sound of his brother's labored breath, "Frerin, get out here right now! I know you're in here!" Frerin could see his brother's thunderous scowl and couldn't help but feel fear start to spread through him. He didn't…. he didn't _want_ to make Thorin angry,,, he just – just wanted his father to look at him the same way he looked at his brother._

"_I swear I will tear everything in this room apart until I find you and then I will hang you off the city walls by your _toes! _Then we'll see how much you want those boots!" Thorin had begun to throw things near him out the door, his face growing more and more red in his anger. _

_Frerin took a big gulp of air and couldn't help but let a sob escape him. He didn't want _Thorin_ angry! He – he _loved_ his brother, more than anything! He didn't want Thorin to hang him by his toes!_

_Hearing the noise, Thorin stopped his rampaging suddenly. "… Frerin?" The younger dwarf huddled as far into the corner as he could, tears starting to pour down his face. Frerin buried his face into the boots so he could no longer see his brother's angry expression. "Frerin?" _

_The young dwarf just shut his eyes, hoping if he ignored him long enough, Thorin would go away. Frerin felt his older brother shifting a box so he could sit down next to him. There were several minutes of silence as the brothers sat together, Frerin still softly crying into Thorin's boots. _

"_I'm sorry, Frerin." The young dwarf looked up at his brother suddenly, Thorin _never_ apologized for anything! "I… didn't mean to yell at you. I just got… angry I suppose." Frerin gave a big sniff and quickly held out the boots for his brother to take. "I'm – I'm sorry too. I know I shouldn't have taken them." _

_Thorin smiled down at his brother and gently pushed the boots back into Frerin's arms, "no, you can have them, brother. They'll suit you more anyway." The younger dwarf gaped from the fine shoes to Thorin's face. "Wha— but father gave them to you! He'll be really cross if you don't use them!" _

_Still smiling down at his little brother, Thorin simply shrugged, "it'll be fine. Just think of them as a present" Frerin gave a small frown, "a present for what?" Thorin laughed softly, "for being my favorite brother of course." _

_Frerin clutched the boots tightly to his chest again but still frowned at his brother, "I'm your _only_ brother. That doesn't count_." _Thorin shoved the other dwarf playfully, "Sure it does, I wouldn't give away new boots to just _anyone_." Frerin wiped his nose with his sleeve and couldn't help but laugh as he shoved his brother back. "you don't think father will be mad?" _

_Thorin pulled up his sleeve and wipe away the tears that had run down his brother's cheeks, "Doesn't matter, what _matters_ is that you are happy. Are you happy?" Frerin nodded quickly, "then they're yours." _

_Frerin gave his brother a wide smile, "oh thank you, _thank_ you, brother!" He lunged forward and gave his brother a tight, slightly wet hug. Thorin gripped him tightly back, "C'mon let's go. I've got to go clean up my room now that you rifled through everything." _

_The young dwarf stuck out his tongue but just as quickly smiled, "don't worry, I'll help you brother. It'll be my gift to you." Thorin laughed again as he lifted Frerin onto his shoulders and they walked out of the room, "how very generous of you." The young dwarf bent over so his face was hanging in front of his brother's, "I know!" _

_They began to walk back down the halls, Frerin still holding his brother's boots as if he would never let them go again. He smiled at the air, smiled at nothing at all, if only because he knew he had the best brother in all the world. _

The flame started to run up his body, eating away at his legs. The pain was indescribable. Frerin felt as if he were simultaneously being torn apart and stabbed again and again with a white-hot dagger as the inferno curled around his legs and up to his stomach.

"_Hey Frerin!" Dís called from behind him. They had finally escaped from another of Thror's duller lessons about how many gold pieces were appropriate for their vassals to give them as tribute and were now outside enjoying a beautiful summer day. _

"_Hm?" He turned around to face his sister who was barely up to his thighs. "What is it?" Dís ran so she could catch up with him and took his hand in her much smaller one. "I want to learn how to use swords!" _

_Frerin laughed as he walked along the forest path with his sister in tow. There was nothing surprising about Dís wanting to learn how to fight, with a temper like hers, Frerin thought she would _have_ to have an outlet like that to keep them all alive in coming years. _

"_You're not old enough yet, sister. Even Thorin was older than you are now when Master Dwalin started to teach him" Dís glared at him under black brows, "So? Doesn't mean _I _have to wait, I'm ready now!" _

_Frerin chuckled at the determination in her voice, if Dís lacked anything; it surely wasn't confidence in herself. "Of course you are, but today I'm teaching you about plants not swords." Dís made a rather disgusting sound of her disapproval, "I don't want to learn about _plants!_ I want to learn about _swords!"

"_You told me not ten minutes ago that what you wanted most in this entire world was to learn about plants," Frerin raised his eyebrow at his little sister. Dís shrugged at him, clearly not impressed by the argument, "well that was ten minutes ago, not _now_." _

_Frerin couldn't help but laugh; there was just no pleasing this little dwarf! "And why does my sister so suddenly want to learn about fighting?" Dís looked up at her brother with a fiercely determined face, "I heard grandfather talking about goblins! If we are going to fight, I need to know how to use a sword."_

_The older dwarf stopped and bent down to that he was on the same eye level as his little sister. "Dís… you don't have to worry about things like that, not yet anyway, you're far too young to go to war." _

_Dís pouted and crossed her arms in a huff, "but I want to protect you! If my brothers are fighting then I should fight too!" Frerin smiled softly at her and pulled the young dwarf into a hug, "that is very brave of you, sister." He pulled back and ruffled her hair, "I'll tell you what," Frerin glanced shiftily sideways before he whispered loudly to her, "if you don't tell, I'll teach you a few things." _

_Dís' eyes went wide as her face broke out in an excited grin, "What? _Really?_" Frerin nodded at her, "but only if you promise." The younger dwarf nodded vigorously, "I promise, I promise!" _

_Frerin led them to a small clearing where he broke off a branch for his sister. He walked back and looked from the piece of wood to her eager face, "Hm, you seem like the type who'd want two swords instead of one." Dís gazed open mouthed at her brother, "you can _do _that?" _

_Frerin snapped the branch so it was now two smaller pieces, "only the very _best_ fighters can have two swords, do you think you can handle it?" Dís practically jumped up and down in excitement, "of course I can! Give them!" She reached up and made grabbing motions with her small hands. _

_Chuckling at her enthusiasm, Frerin placed one in each of her open palms. They practiced for hours until Dís could no longer stand she was so tired, though the happy smile never left her face. _

_Frerin lifted her up onto his shoulders and started to walk back to the great halls of Erebor. "Hey Frerin?" Dís yawned as she rested her chin on the top of his head, "yeah?" _

_His sister was silent for a moment as she played with the braids that were wound through his hair, "thanks." Frerin kept his pace steady as stepped over fallen branches and rocks, "what for, little sister?" Dís gave one of the braids a small tug, "for not treating me like I don't know what's going on all the time." _

"_Everyone else acts like… like I need to be protected. Like I'm gonna break if I go outside." Frerin gave his sister's tiny legs a little squeeze in comfort, "they just don't want you to get hurt is all." Dís resumed playing with his braids, "I know… but I need to do stuff on my own sometimes, you know?" _

_Frerin nodded, "yeah, I do. Just let me know whenever you need rescuing and we'll come here and practice your swordsmanship." Dís let out a small hiss of excitement, "oh do you mean it?" The older dwarf laughed as she rapidly shifted her weight from shoulder to shoulder, "of course! Anything for you, princess!" _

_Dís swatted his face with one of her small hands, "don't call me that! You know I don't like it." Frerin tilted his face up to grin at her, "your wish is my command, milady." The younger dwarf stuck out her tongue but laughed with her brother anyway, "you're the best." Frerin winked at her before tilting his head down again, "I know." _

The flames had burned though his chest now and Frerin could feel life slipping away form him. He could feel pain, oh he could feel _pain_, but he knew the end was close now. The dwarf opened his eyes, despite every instinct in his body to keep them closed tight, and looked at his love.

Brehen was dying. They lay there, intertwined as death caressed them in its burning embrace. Though Frerin had tried to shield the other dwarf from the flames, at least some part of him had known from the beginning there was nothing he could do.

Brehen was still looking at him, though the flames tore the flesh from his body, and that small smile still rested on his face. What Frerin had done to deserve a dwarf like him, he had no idea. And, as he looked down at those warm blue eyes, Frerin wanted nothing more than time.

He wanted to share himself, every last dark corner of his life, he wanted to give to Brehen. He wanted map out every curve, every line, every dip in Brehen's skin. He _wanted_ to hear the other dwarf's thoughts on everything from his favorite type of smithing gloves to his opinion on human cuisine.

He _wanted_ to grow old; to live all his long years in the arms of the dwarf who had not only accepted his affections, but also loved him _back_ just as fiercely. But time, as it was becoming clear to him, was no longer a mysterious expanse of infinite possibility in front of him. Now it was short and cruel. It was brief and painful. It was tragedy. But, as he looked into Brehen's eyes, it was also love. Never in his life had he been loved or loved as strongly as he had in that moment.

"_Roll over," came a muffled voice from beside him. Frerin unburied his face from the pillow it was currently resting in to glace at the dwarf that lay next to him, the candlelight making shadows roll and spill over tanned skin._

"_What's this?" Frerin sat up on his elbows, "I thought you liked it when I was on top of you?" Brehen threw an arm back that hit him lightly on the head, "not when I'm trying to _sleep_." _

_Brehen rolled over onto his back so he could look at the other dwarf, "and you are so full of yourself. It's unseemly." Frerin grinned, "we could _not_ sleep, you know." Brehen groaned as he threw his arms over his head, "you are incorrigible." _

_Frerin winked as he lowered himself to Brehen's stomach, breathing warm air onto the other dwarf's skin. He looked up at the other dwarf, who was watching him with a mixture of anticipation and annoyance. The prince, keeping their eyes locked, lowered his mouth to the skin of Brehen's stomach. Placing a slow kiss there, he licked in a small circle. The other dwarf closed his eyes with a groan, "you are far too handsome for your own good." _

_Frerin stopped his unhurried mapping of the expanse of skin that shivered beneath him, "you think I'm handsome?" Brehen threaded his fingers into the many braids on Frerin's head and pulled him up so they were level with each other. "You _know_ you're handsome." _

_Brehen pulled the other dwarf close enough to kiss, but stopped just far enough away where the distance was excruciating. Frerin let out a little groan, "don't be such a _tease_, Bree, you know I won't last long if you do that."_

_His face breaking into a sly grin, Brehen shoved him back and placed a leg on either side of Frerin's waist. Putting his hands on the prince's chest, Brehen leaned forward until his hair curtained them and their lips were just about touching again. "And why shouldn't tease you? You do deserve it." _

_Brehen rolled his hips slowly but as soon as Frerin pushed his head up to kiss the other dwarf, he pulled away just out of reach. "Because you loveeee me!" Frerin strung out the word with a gasp as Brehen moved again. _

_Smiling down at him with more affection than Frenin had ever hoped to inspire in another being, Brehen placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, "I do." The prince's eyes opened widely, they had known each other for decades, had been seeing each other for years but they had never said the actual words. Whether it was the sluggish pace of most dwarf courting or their own personalities, Frerin hadn't the faintest clue, but what mattered was that it had been _said.

"_You… you do?" Frerin began slowly, not believing that this was happening but also knowing in his heart that this feeling was now the most natural thing in the world to him. "I do. Mahal help me, I love you Frerin." As the dwarf prince looked up at Brehen, he felt a swell of affection in his chest. But it didn't stop; it grew and grew until he felt he might burst, like his heart was too tight and too full to contain anything else. _

_Frerin reached up and grasped Brehen's face in his hands and brought it down to his own. He closed his eyes and spoke against the other dwarf's lips, "I love you too. Whatever that means, whatever happens, I will love you Bree, as long as you will let me." Frerin pulled the other dwarf into a fierce kiss and felt in that moment he could have died. He could have died in his love's arms and cared not a second for anything else because he knew that Brehen loved him back. _

Frerin, with some strength he knew not that he had left, pushed his face just far enough forward so that their lips were touching. He would hold onto this feeling, this great, infinite love inside him until there was nothing left. Until they were both burned away from this world in a blaze of hate and malice.

The flames where curling up to the top of his chest and with his last breath he said the only thing that had every truly mattered to him, "I love you, Brehen." Whether they were actually words or some final gurgle of life-breath spilling out of him, Frerin didn't know, but it didn't matter as soon as he heard, "and I you."

Frerin smiled into the lips of his love and the fire took him. The roaring fury filled his ears and the inferno finally engulfed them. There was nothing left, nothing more to burn, but it didn't _matter_. Because under the mountain, under the all that stone and rubble and destruction, Frerin held Brehen in his arms for the rest of his life.

Whatever happened next, if they went on to the next life or if their bodies simply stayed on the floor of the room filled with gold, it didn't _matter_. For Frerin had known love and had loved; and in that moment, as death and pain and fury surrounded them, Frerin had never been more alive.


End file.
